Three
THREE
LEORA
" T hat disgusting, charmout of a man!" Adeline screams, her Lebanese heritage coming out in the form of Arabic curse words. Most of the time I’m confused, but "charmout" is one word I do know.
Manwhore .
She huffs as she plants herself next to me on the couch. "Haywan!"
Animal.
After I caught him in bed with that woman, I turned around and stormed out of the room without speaking a word to him or the redhead. I always assumed I would be more of a loud and upset girlfriend, seeing as I tend to have a short fuse in certain situations, but in this instance, the only thing I felt as I looked at him, sixty-nineing that redhead, was betrayal. I should be livid for what he did—I have every reason to be angry with him, but I'm not feeling it. Maybe the anger hasn’t caught up to me yet.
Not just for cheating.
I’m mad about the cheating, but I’m also absolutely floored that I caught him in bed doing something other than laying on top of—or behind—someone. He never took action with me, and maybe I didn’t suggest for us to be more creative, but I wanted it and I wanted him to want it. To want me.
I walked away as soon as I saw them, but not before John heard my outraged gasp. He ran after me—naked, might I add—trying to explain that it wasn't what it looked like. Which was funny because his dick was still wet from her saliva.
I calmly told him it was over and to leave. I reached for the door, grabbing my purse before adding that I wanted no trace of him when I came back home.
Which didn’t exactly work as well as I wanted it to.
I’ve been staying with Adeline for the past two weeks and he still hasn’t moved out.
He texted me saying he needed a little time to find a new place to live, and I told him that was fine—which Adeline wasn’t happy about. The whole "putting my foot down" was harder to do than I thought.
What can I say? I’m weak and a people pleaser. I can't help feeling bad for people when they need help, even if those people are cheating, scumbag, exes.
"What are you thinking about?" Adeline’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
Adeline is my rock and one of my best friends. She’s the most beautiful soul on the inside and out. We've known each other since we were five years old, when we bonded over our love for the Powerpuff Girls—the Buttercup to my Bubbles. A few years later we found Sophie, our Blossom. We’ve been the perfect trio ever since, and tomorrow we’re leaving for The Ultimate French Riviera Vacation in Nice. Which I should be incredibly excited about, but the weight of my breakup and job loss has been hanging over me, making me question if going is even a good idea at the moment.
Adeline is convinced this is the perfect way to reset myself and get ready for a new job.
She’s also convinced it’s the perfect way to get over a cheating boyfriend.
"I don’t think I can come with you tomorrow," I say, avoiding making eye contact with her. However, the look of utter outrage is clear on her face, her eyes narrowing and her mouth tightening in disapproval.
"Of course you can. You’re not letting that hmar stop you from having the best vacation of your life. You’ll enjoy it even more now."
"Why do you think that?"
"Do you remember the time we went to Vegas for Sophie’s birthday weekend? How he texted you non-stop, asking about what you were doing? He even called you to see your outfits several times. Who acts like that?"
She’s right. I remember being so annoyed with him that weekend. We even argued about me going to the club because according to him, "Girls with boyfriends shouldn’t be shaking their asses at clubs in Vegas." Even though I confronted him and went to the club, his words still bothered me throughout the night. Now that I look back at the situation, I realize that it wasn’t okay, but at that moment I didn’t see it that way. He wasn’t all bad, and after the argument, he told me he only acted that way because he was afraid that something would happen to me, and he apologized profusely. Adeline, however, didn't let that go. She never really got along with John, not fully anyway
Sure, we had our good days, and we all used to hang out. They were cordial to each other, which I presume was for my sake, but some days, I could feel the strain in the air with the way they sent each other scathing looks and the muttered Arabic words from Adeline. Their mutual animosity hung heavy between them, a palpable tension in the air.
That’s how my knowledge of Arabic swear words evolved.
I should have trusted her gut instinct. She’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to these things. But, as they say, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.
We all make mistakes, some more than others.
"Leora, stop zoning out!" Her fingers snap in front of my eyes, bringing my focus back to her.
"I’m sorry," I mutter as I sink deeper into the sofa, my thoughts spinning around my head like a whirlwind.
When I'm upset, my coping mechanism is to drown myself in work and invest all of my energy into reaching my goals. Now, I don’t even have a way to cope.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
The only options at the moment are alcohol or the gym.
Seeing as the latter requires physical effort—alcohol it is.
Adeline moves closer to me, her eyes full of sympathy. I know she wants to help, but I don’t know what I need.
"It's okay." Her voice is soft. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Just know that I'm here for you, okay?"
I nod, feeling the tears prick my eyes. Adeline doesn’t have to say anything else; her presence alone is enough to soothe my aching heart.
"I'm sorry," I say, gesturing to the mess that is me. My normally sleek, brown hair is now tangled in a greasy knot on the top of my head, my green eyes swollen from crying and my pale skin duller than ever. My clothes, usually neat, are now wrinkled and haphazardly draped on my body. "I know I’m a disaster."
It’s a stark contrast to Adeline’s beautiful, long, shiny black hair paired with her large, brown, almond eyes. She looks beautiful as always.
Adeline grabs my hand. "No, you’re not."
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts.
"It's just that . . . everything feels so overwhelming. I don't know how I’ll ever move forward." A tear slowly makes its way down my cheek and I wipe it away with a shaky hand. "I don’t want to feel like this."
Adeline nods, her eyes conveying compassion. "It's okay to feel that way," she reassures me. "But you're not alone. We'll figure it out together."
I lean into her, feeling the weight of my troubles start to lift, even if only for a little while. I know that it won’t be fixed overnight, but at this moment, with Adeline by my side, I feel a glimmer of hope for the future.
The sound of the door slamming wakes us up, with the credits to Mamma Mia 2 still playing in the background. I reach for my phone and it lights the dark room. I check the time, shocked to see it's 1 a.m. When did it get so late?
"Honeys, I’m home!" Sophie’s voice bellows through the hallway, accompanied by the rough sound of a suitcase being dragged behind her.
Her blonde hair sways as she runs toward me. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get here earlier. My manager wouldn't let me go," she says as she wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace. She’s been out of town for the past three weeks working on an interior design project for a small hotel in New Orleans.
"You are the most amazing person I know," she says, her embrace getting even tighter. "He was never good enough for you, and I hope you know that."
Her words hit me hard and I lean into her warmth.
"What do you say we order some take-out and watch the only movies that make you happy?" Sophie leans back from our embrace and regards me with her beautiful smile.
"We’ve—" Adeline starts before I interrupt her.
"Thank you, that sounds like a great idea." I don’t have it in me to tell her we’ve already watched the movies, so I sit back and let her press play.
I couldn’t focus on the movie the second time around. All I could think about was this damn trip. The question of whether or not I should go has been plaguing me for the past two weeks. I already paid for the flight and the hotel so if I don't go, I’ll lose the money. On the other hand, there’s the cost of food, drinks and activities—which means even if I do go, I’ll lose money I don’t have. However, if I don't go, I know they won’t go either, which will ruin their vacation plans. I guess I might as well go and have fun with them—if nothing else it will keep my mind off of things.
"I need one of you to go grab my luggage from my apartment." If John’s there, I’ll most likely slap him.
Both Adeline and Sophie’s eyes meet mine. "I would go, but I’m not sure he’ll be gone. I started packing three weeks ago and I’m almost finished. The only thing missing is some underwear and bikinis, so please throw some in while you’re at it."
They both nod in understanding. "Of course," Adeline answers with a certain glow behind her eyes. She’s probably planning to smack him in the face for me.
I love this girl.
Sophie catches on. "Only to get the suitcase!"
Adeline responds by nodding, robotically, with a maniacal grin that tells me I shouldn’t believe that she will leave John’s face untouched.
Sophie reassures me they will be as mature as possible, even though he doesn’t deserve it.
They quickly head out the door, promising to be back as soon as possible, leaving me alone.
Everything floods back.
I’m a failure.
I’m not good enough.
I always thought I would have everything by now—my dream job, a handsome husband, and a beautiful child. My plan was to grow up, work hard for my diploma, fall in love with a decent guy, get married, and start a family. And considering, so far, I only have accomplished one of those things, I feel like I've failed miserably.
I have nothing.
My hands tremble as I gulp down a glass of water—anxiety and frustration swirling inside me. Everyone around me seems to know where they’re headed, except me. Even Adeline and Sophie seem to have it all figured out.
Honestly, I’m not jealous—I'm incredibly proud of Adeline's success as a New York Times bestselling author, and I’m excited for Sophie's potential promotion. Before we know it she will be taking over the interior design company she works for—as she should because she’s incredible at what she does. I’m not jealous, but their success perpetuates this feeling that I’m behind everyone in life.
A tear slips down my cheek.
I angrily swipe at it but more follow and I end up cradling my face in my hands, unable to stop the flood of tears.
I hate feeling like this—powerless and defeated.
When the tears subside, I take a deep breath and steady myself against the cold kitchen island, determined not to let these emotions ruin everything. I can't let myself ruin this vacation for the girls, and I won't let myself fall victim to my own negative thoughts. We've all worked so hard to get where we are, and we need to enjoy every moment of our well-deserved break.
"I can do this. I need to do this," I whisper to myself, wiping away the last of my tears. Vacation is therapy and I need a lot of it. I'll just put my feelings aside for now and deal with them when we're back in two weeks. That sounds doable.
I mean, at this point, what else could possibly go wrong?